Broken. Everything in this house is broken. She has the opposite of the Midas touch. Things crumble and shatter at her fingertips – the dreams, the dishes, the treasured things, our hearts.
She’s a gale, moving too fast. She does not know that she leaves us behind in the wreckage. She exposes the hairline fractures that have always been.
Tired of cleaning up the pieces. Is there anything worth salvaging? Can we break anymore? Can we really be mended?
Words said in anger, frustration, mourning. Helpless to fix it, the urge to throw it all away.
Try as we might, we cannot fix our cracked lives, we cannot re-join the compartmentalized.
We are vexed and have no use for our broken and bruised.
But not God.
He will not disregard it, he will not refuse or reject it.
For oh how he loves broken me. And broken her. And broken him.
Given to Him to carefully knit back together, breathe life into dry, broken bones, and replace the stony hearts with hearts of flesh. We are His creative destruction, and He is our Healer.
There’s a cost in this life-long fixing.
But if we can just trust Him…! We will never forget He is near the shattered parts. We will see the beauty in the cracks. Our pieces delicately held together by Love-glue.
The LORD is near to those who have a broken heart.. 34:18
And they that shall be of thee shall build the old waste places: thou shalt raise up the foundations of many generations; and thou shalt be called, The Repairer of the Breach, The restorer of paths to dwell in. Isaiah 58:12